


Reincarnated

by TurianSoldier



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: AU, Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Shepard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blackwatch (Mass Effect), Canon-Typical Violence, Cerberus (Mass Effect) - Freeform, Drama, Drama & Romance, Earthborn (Mass Effect), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facinus (Mass Effect), Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mass Effect AU, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Human Shepard, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Racism, Sex, Slow Burn, Transformation, Turians, Xenophilia, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurianSoldier/pseuds/TurianSoldier
Summary: Commander Shepard woke up in a lab foreign to her after being dead for two years. Her friends moved on with their lives, she was in pain, and an unknown organization brought her back to fight the reapers. After assessing the situation, she didn’t think it could get any worse. But then the drugs wore off and the more she traversed her surroundings, the more clear it became that some aspects of her revival didn’t add up. She noticed parts of herself were drastically altered. Her senses were off, walking felt funny, and why was she taller? When she looked in the mirror, her life was changed forever. Tasked with stopping the abduction of human and turian colonists, the commander must come to terms with being revived as an entirely different species. Spirits save her...





	1. Private Server

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret conversation over a private server decides the fate of the recently deceased Commander Shepard.

_Location: Unknown_

VI: Welcome to Private Server #376-59C, unregistered user. This server requires all users to provide some basic information to the server host. A form has been sent to your comm address. Please fill it out to the best of your ability.

VI: MONITORING [UNREGISTERED USER] OMNITOOL ACTIVITIES:  
     [1977] Server exited.  
     [1977] Messenger opened.  
     [1977] Messenger inbox opened.  
     [1978] Form viewed.  
     [1978] Form opened. [See activity below.]  
     ——  
          Form Activity:

          [Majority of form content omitted to provide simple viewing.]  
          [To view full form, click here.]

          > Fill in the following information about yourself:

          > Name: [redacted]  
          > Species: Turian  
          > Gender: Female  
          > Occupation: Implant Researcher, Medical Doctor  
          > Employer: [redacted]  
     ——

     [0129] Form completed.  
     [0129] Form sent to server host.  
     [0130] Unregistered user invited to server.  
     [0130] Messenger inbox history deleted.  
     [0130] Messenger inbox deleted.  
     [0131] Extranet search history deleted.  
     —————  
          Recent searches:

  
          > Commander Shepard - 736,089,924 results  
          > Commander Shepard Biography - 130,124,875 results  
               > Biography Downloaded - Opened, Read (completed)  
          > Commander Shepard Autobiography - no results  
               > no results  
          > Jane Shepard Autobiography - no results  
               > no results  
          > First Human Spectre Autobiography - no results  
               > no results  
          > First Human Spectre - 652,367,994 results  
          > First Human Spectre Ceremony - 469,803,124 results  
               > Vid Downloaded - Viewed 17 times.  
          > Normandy SR1 - 724,933,856 results  
          > Commander Shepard Interviews - 31,012,045 results  
          > Nihlus Kryik Death - 549,632,759 results  
          > Saren Arterius Death - 698,836,471 results  
          > Systems Alliance - 586,379,024 results  
               > Article Opened: Human Alliance recruitment rates skyrocket 14% after Battle of the Citadel.

          Newest searches:

  
          > Commander Shepard Death - 773,364,912 results  
               > Report Downloaded - Opened, Read (completed)  
          > Commander Shepard Funeral - 764,431,995 results  
               > Vid Downloaded - viewed 12 times.  
          > Commander Shepard Funeral Speeches - 630,794,549 results  
               > Councillor Tevos Speech - 6 minutes.  
                     > viewed 1 time.  
               > Councillor Valern Speech - 3 minutes.  
                     > viewed 1 time.  
               > Councillor Sparatus Speech - 23 minutes.  
                     > viewed 7 times.  
               > Councillor Anderson Speech - 26 minutes.  
                     > viewed 7 times.  
               > Ambassador Udina Speech - 4 minutes.  
                     > viewed 1 time.  
     —————  
     [0131] Username changed to [TS].  
     [0131] Server re-entry accepted.

VI: MONITORING [TS] OMNITOOL ACTIVITIES STOPPED.

  
VI: Welcome to Private Server #376-59C, TS.

VI: Please wait while a secure connection is established.

VI: Connection established. Please be advised, all server traffic is monitored and will be encrypted to server host standards.

VI: Galactic Standard Time set.

SERVER: [TS] joined the server.

SERVER: [C] joined the server.

SERVER [0132]: The date today is 08 - 26 - 2183

TS [0133]: Sir, Commander Shepard was killed in action today.

C [0134]: I have the uncensored reports. Do we know who destroyed her ship?

TS [0136]: No sir. Our databases can’t find a match to any known space-faring vessels.

C [0137]: Did the Systems Alliance recover her body?

TS [0138]: No sir. Her body wasn’t found among the wreckage of the Normandy. After two hours, the Systems Alliance called off the search. Is that normal procedure? Two hours seems like an awfully short amount of time to search for a single body among the wreckage of a frigate.

C [0140]: No, it is not normal procedure. A high ranking official in the Systems Alliance is likely susceptible to bribes.

TS [0140]: So someone wants her corpse then.

C [0141]: It would seem so. Find out what you can and report your findings.

TS [0141]: Yes sir.

SERVER [0148]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [0153]: User [TS] is now offline.

SERVER [1402]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [1403]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [1403]: The date today is 09 - 03 - 2183

TS [1403]: Sir, I have a lead. An unmarked shuttle was seen leaving the scene of the wreckage.

C [1404]: Do we know where this shuttle went?

TS [1404]: Several reports list the shuttle being docked on Omega, sir.

C [1405]: Authorize a team to investigate the shuttle and its occupants. If they have the commander, report back immediately. A plan of action will be drafted.

TS [1405]: I’m on it now, sir. The 9th platoon will be sent to investigate.

SERVER [1412]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [1417]: User [TS] is now offline.

SERVER [1982]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [1983]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [1983]: The date today is 09 - 05 - 2183

TS [1984]: The 9th platoon made contact, sir.

C [1984]: Good. What did they find?

TS [1986]: It appears that the shuttle is registered to a shell corporation previously known to coordinate with the Shadow Broker. The pilots were in the process of making a trade. The platoon leader confirmed that the Broker’s agents possessed the commander’s body, but a third party stole her corpse before this supposed trade could go through.

C [1987]: Do we know the identity of the third party?

TS [1987]: The 9th is in the process of identifying them now.

SERVER [1994]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [1999]: User [TS] is now offline.

SERVER [0620]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [0621]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [0621]: The date today is 09 - 06 - 2183

TS [0622]: The 9th platoon reported in. They engaged the unidentified individuals and are now engrossed in conflict. The third party is well armed and consists of humans. What are your orders, sir?

C [0623]: Find the leader and interrogate them. Neutralize the human soldiers.

SERVER [0630]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [0635]: User [TS] is now offline.

SERVER [1663]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [1664]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [1664]: The date today is 09 - 08 - 2183

TS [1665]: The 9th platoon’s commander reported in. They apprehended the leader and the enemy squad was neutralized, as ordered.

C [1665]: What were the results of the interrogation?

TS [1667]: They forced a name out of the human leader. Miranda Lawson. I put her name through our database, but we have no information on her.

C [1668]: She likely came to the station on a shuttle of her own. Tell the 9th to find it. It should determine the human’s employer.

SERVER [1675]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [1680]: User [TS] is now offline.

SERVER [0943]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [0944]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [0944]: The date today is 09 - 09 - 2183

TS [0945]: They found her shuttle and pulled all the data they could from its computer, sir. Someone was erasing it remotely, so we didn’t get much. What we _do_ know is that she works for a pro-human terrorist group called Cerberus.

C [0946]: We will deal with them when the time comes. Did the 9th platoon recover the commander’s body?

TS [0946]: Yes sir. The commander is secured and the 9th platoon is on its way back now.

C [0947]: Good. Return to base as soon as you are able, and bring her with you. We are not returning the commander’s body to the humans.

TS [0947]: I apologize for the insubordination sir, but why not? What possible use could we have for a human corpse?

C [0948]: Doctor, she has valuable intel about an enemy the Council ignored. And in response to your other query, our organization recently diverted funds to a project that revives the deceased. We need her.

TS [0951]: Understood, sir.

C [0951]: I am putting you in charge of this project. We all saw the Citadel when Sovereign attacked. If more of these “reapers” come, the commander may be our only hope.

TS [0952]: She is human, sir. The Relay Incident has made relations between our species rather sour. Why are you so sure she will work with us?

C [0952]: We’ve been watching her for years. She acts more turian than human and genuinely believes in saving lives, no matter the species.

TS [0953]: It is a pity the commander is human then. The hierarchy could use a soldier like her.

C [0953]: The project was not put into place to bring her back as a human.

TS [0953]: Sir?

C [0954]: We need a new Spectre operative and I want it to be her. Arterius smeared the integrity of our species with his status and we are in crucial need of good press. The hierarchy will get their soldier. Bring her to our side, doctor.

TS [0955]: Consider it my top priority.

TS [0960]: Permission to speak freely sir?

C [0961]: Granted.

TS [0961]: What is she like? I’ve only heard rumors and the vids don’t reveal much. Unlike the rest of her species, she keeps quiet.

C [0962]: Unconventional, but with good morals. And _our_ species, doctor. I do hope you remember what we just discussed.

TS [0962]: I pride myself with my warm receptions, sir.

C [0963]: See to it that she becomes the pinnacle of our species.

TS [0963]: With pleasure, sir.

SERVER [0970]: User [C] is no longer active.

SERVER [0970]: User [TS] is no longer active.

SERVER [0975]: User [C] is now offline.

SERVER [0975]: User [TS] is now offline.

VI: [TS] now offline

VI: MONITORING [TS] OMNITOOL ACTIVITIES RESUMED.

VI: ERROR - COMMUNICATION SERVICES DISABLED.

VI: ERROR - VITALS NOT DETECTED.

VI: ERROR - CACHE DATA NOT FOUND.

VI: WARNING! [TS] IS INITIATING OMNITOOL FACTORY RESET.

VI: [TS] omnitool initiating factory reset.

VI: CONNECTION SEVERED. MONITORING OFFLINE.

VI: Factory reset completed. Have a nice day!

VI: Welcome, unregistered user. Please follow the instructions on screen to set up your omnitool.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galactic Standard Time Conversion:
> 
> • A galactic standard day comprises 20 hours.  
> • Each hour comprises 100 minutes.  
> • Each minute comprises 100 seconds.  
> • Each second is half as long as a human second.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Pulled from the Mass Effect wiki:
> 
> The inhabitants of Citadel Council Space utilize a standardized time system. This system is different from the Terran Coordinated Universal Time relied on by humans. The differences are listed above.
> 
> As a result, a twenty-hour galactic standard day is 15.7% longer than a standard twenty-four hour Terran Coordinated Universal day, which means it lasts 27 hours, 46 minutes, and 40 seconds in Earth-based time.
> 
> A galactic standard year is described as being an average of asari, salarian, and turian years and only 1.09 times longer than an Earth year. This means that a galactic standard year consists of 398.114 Earth days or 343.97 galactic standard days.


	2. Mourning a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the second year anniversary of Shepard's death and Garrus is miserable.

_Location: Omega, Afterlife - Terminus Systems_

Garrus sat in one of the many sleazy bars on Omega, pondering his life choices. The blue armor he commonly wore was branded with the year old nickname of Archangel, shining in the dull red light of the lower sections of Afterlife. He never particularly liked Omega, but most criminals escaped through the station to commit serious crimes, all of which affected life everywhere else. On the Citadel, he couldn't touch them. Here, he could cause as much damage to the mercenary groups as he wanted. He found that it was a way to enact proper justice on those who were wronged by C-Sec’s policies. Despite each victory and every life he improved though, it all felt wrong.

“Bartender,” he called, lifting an arm up to garner his attention. The bartender was a slender, older turian man who couldn’t be more than seventy. Turians lived to around 150 years of age and usually kept their mobility, so this was nothing unusual. The man walked over to Garrus, throwing a cleaning towel over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar with both hands. “Archangel, what can I get for you?”

“Turian Horosk,” he responded, sighing sadly. “It’s the anniversary of my friend’s death.”

Garrus made it a tradition to buy a drink in Shepard's honor once a year on the day of her death. It was something he, along with the rest of the surviving Normandy crew, had vowed to do every year to celebrate their commander, no matter where they were or what they were doing. On this day, he always found himself drinking more than usual, often getting drunk in a futile attempt to forget she had passed. She changed his life drastically, and because of her, he could confidently say that he was a changed man. A better man.

The bartender poured him a glass of the heavy dextro liquor, finishing it off with two large ice cubes before heading off to clean the counter space next to him.

“Good friend, I presume? They must’ve meant something if you’re drinking booze this heavy...and expensive.” The man was looking at him, stopping temporarily to interact with him. Garrus gave a small nod as he picked up the glass, sipping its contents.

“One of the best friends I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” The bartender returned his nod, leaving to tend to another customer.

Garrus dwelled on his thoughts once more. Spirits, he missed her. It dawned on him that maybe this was the reason why he felt so empty, and why everything he did felt so wrong. The more he thought about his actions, the more he came to realize that Shepard would be disappointed in him. She would want him to follow his passion, not waste his life in the bowels of the Terminus Systems. He sat on the barstool, staring at the half empty glass while he continued to sulk. His thoughts briefly turned to her funeral. He hated her funeral. While the human Systems Alliance never actually found her body, it was yet another reminder that his best, and only friend, was no longer around. He actively blocked that part of his memory, or any memory that contained his old commander. Thinking about her after her death had always been painful, but today he let the feelings roam free. It was the second year anniversary of her death, after all.

Before Garrus could ask for another glass of Turian Horosk, his omnitool gently beeped, focusing his attention away from the second drink. He grumbled at the glowing orange tool, swiping across the screen to view his messages. The messenger app held many new messages, most of them unread and barely acknowledged by the irritated turian. Conversations with Wrex, Tali, and rarely Liara, were the most common; the other messages, the majority of which being Hierarchy correspondence or family messages, went completely unanswered and for the most part, ignored outright. He debated what to do about the messages, ultimately deciding to go through his unread folder outside. The air in the club nauseated him anyway.

Garrus walked upstairs and pushed the doors of the Afterlife nightclub open, breathing in the recirculated station air. The smells still bothered him, but he found it more tolerable outside compared to the cramped bar area. He took a moment to breathe before leaning against a nearby wall, opening his omnitool. There were a total of forty-seven unread messages. It was common for him to delete most new messages, but a few managed to pique his interest. Settling on reading through the few he selected, Garrus began sifting through his inbox.

User: Garrus Vakarian  
Inbox order: Oldest - Newest  
Time format: Galactic Standard Time (GST) - 20 hour days

——-  
To: Garrus Vakarian  
From: Tali'Zorah vas Neema  
Time: 1573 GST 12/2183  
Subject: Progressing

_Hey Garrus,_

_It's been a while since we talked. I just want to know if you're alright; no one's managed to pry a full conversation out of you since the commander passed. You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. Keelah, I'm just concerned. We all are. I wish our time with the Normandy crew lasted longer._

_-Tali_

——-

As much as he liked Tali, she was right. He wasn’t willing to talk about Shepard’s death with her or the rest of the crew. This was something he wanted to suffer alone.

He exited the message, pulling up a holo of the Normandy crew after their battle with Saren. Everyone looked so happy, drinks in hand and smiles plastered on various faces. He was standing next to Shepard, clinking glasses with her. Tali, Wrex, and Liara were in close proximity too. The booze they all consumed loosened their usually stressed selves and as a result of that, they celebrated. His mandibles spread into a small smile at the reminder of such a good memory. He had made the picture his terminal wallpaper and would find himself staring at it on particularly bad days, like today. Garrus closed the picture and went back to viewing his unread messages.

——-  
To: Officer Vakarian  
From: Executor Pallin  
Time: 1304 GST 01/2184  
Subject: Whereabouts

_Where are you? I knew your decisions were rash at times, but this? You were an excellent officer, Vakarian. I just find it difficult to comprehend that I'm reading your resignation form. Chellik is worried about you, as am I. Wherever you are, please think about what you're doing. And when you feel ready to think rationally, C-Sec is still here, waiting for you._

_-Executor Venari Pallin_  
——-

Garrus grunted at the text in front of him. He had no plans on returning to C-Sec, despite Pallin's wishes. Ignoring the message, he scrolled down on the viewer to sift through the next one.

——-  
To: Garrus Vakarian  
From: Liara T'Soni  
Time: 0736 GST 03/2184  
Subject: Garrus?

_Garrus,_

_No one has heard from you in quite some time. Are you alright? I know you probably won't tell me if you aren't, but I thought it necessary to ask anyway. Please respond soon so I can tell Tali something. She keeps trying to leverage my position to get information about you._

_Not that I can find any._

_Please, stay safe._

_-Liara_

_P.S. An urgent matter has come up. I may be gone for a few months. If you respond, please direct your message to my encrypted terminal inbox on Illium._  
——-

It had been a while since he had actually responded to any of the messages his friends sent him. He rarely used the messenger on his omnitool in fear that his friends could be used to go after him. The gangs on Omega were not above travelling elsewhere to kill people who had nothing to do with them, so long as it crushed the morale of their enemy: him. He would have none of it. They were too important to risk.

——-  
To: Garrus Vakarian  
From: Urdnot Wrex  
Time: 1727 GST 07/2184  
Subject: no subject

_Hey turian,_

_You still kicking out there? If you are, don't get shot. You’re not funny, but you aren't unbearable either. Stay alive._

_-Wrex_

——-

Wrex? He could risk him. The krogan could handle himself. It was a surprise that the old man sent him anything though. The large krogan hardly ever talked to people, let alone Garrus. The two had trouble adjusting to each other at first, the krogan having a grudge against turians for the genophage. Unlike other krogan though, Wrex was smart. He knew to speak when it was necessary and never missed an opportunity to teach Garrus about the less pleasant places outside Council Space. If he was messaging him, then he really should take into consideration how closed off he was for the last two years. He quickly shot off a reply to the old message, stating that he was indeed alive before moving on to the remaining queue.

——-  
To: Garrus Vakarian  
From: Castis Vakarian  
CC: Solana Vakarian  
Time: 1924 GST 02/2185  
Subject: Read Your Messages

_Son,_

_Please read your messages. Your sister and I are concerned about you and your mother has gotten worse. The routine Corpalis treatments are not working. Come home whenever you are able._

——-

His father was a Hierarch within High Command, so it was no surprise that his message was short, to the point, and marked as ‘important’.

While he loved his mother with everything he had, he just couldn’t find the courage to see her, weak and writhing in a bed while dying a slow, miserable death. He couldn’t take it. He had already lost too much in his life and didn’t want to see more go. Instead, he’d continue his work here, on Omega. Garrus vowed a long time ago to make a dent in the criminal population and maybe for once, he could do something Shepard and his mother alike would be proud of. He left the rest of his inbox unread, not in the mood to sift through more painful memories. He decided to return to base. Sidonis wanted his attention with a mission anyway.


	3. Trauma Bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While sedated, Shepard relives the past through her memories.

_Location: Unknown_

The Normandy was on fire. She remembered that.

A few minutes before the attack, Shepard had been getting ready for some shut-eye, sitting at her terminal. She had been writing a report to the Council when she heard Joker sound the alarms. Before anything could be processed into logical thought, she heard an explosion, followed by screams. The armor she was currently wearing would have to do. She rushed out of her quarters, locating the emergency beacon to alert the Alliance. The rest gets blurry after that; she remembers having to haul Joker out of the cockpit, but not much else. He was put in an escape pod, but she didn’t make it. The beam firing on the Normandy cut a hole into what was left of the hull and seconds later, the bridge was gone; the whole thing was caught in an explosion. Through the resulting explosion, she was violently thrown into space, desperate while she watched what was left of her ship explode. The N7 light armor she was wearing ruptured and the tube connecting the oxygen tank had been cut. All of the air was in the process of leaking out while cracking made itself apparent on her helmet visor. Suffocating was a painful way to go. She remembered being cold, on the border of freezing. Hypothermia, she guessed. She couldn’t remember which one got her first. Her heart was beating furiously while vividly replaying the trauma over and over again in her head.

“..Doctor? Doctor, her vitals are unstable. She’s having another episode.”

She tried to place the voice. It was dual toned, flanged, and masculine. Turian, male. Another voice was heard in the background, conversing with the first.

“We need more medigel. Protrusions in the arm and head reopened. The patient won’t stay conscious for much longer. I need you to run a full detail scan on….”

This voice was similar to the first. Also flanged, but a higher pitch. Another turian, this one female; likely the doctor the other one talked about. And true to the turian’s words, she passed out like a light.

Her trauma started playing out again, fresh from where she left off. The space around her small, struggling form was empty as she watched what was left of her ship burn. Her memories replayed the Normandy exploding in front of her. She was launched into space and her body fell towards the planet below. She was cold, very cold. Her life flashed before her eyes as she descended towards her icy tomb.

Alchera. She remembered the planet was called Alchera.

Memories went by one by one in a blur as she continued her speedy descent, unable to breathe. Now she remembered: suffocation got her first.

She remembered the hardships she faced, the friends she made, and the ones she lost. Saren committed suicide, the Alliance saved the Council, she played a part in Sovereign’s destruction, and at the end, appointed Anderson as the human councillor. Her mission was a success; the results were bittersweet. Her crew had to go their separate ways and because of that, goodbyes were in order. Those were the hardest.

Shepard hated goodbyes, but wanted her crew to be sent off the right way. They were wonderful people and she felt they deserved her best behavior.

Tali felt like a sister to her, so the two hugged and parted ways. She completed her pilgrimage and with Shepard’s help, retrieved the data she needed on the Geth. Liara was relatively similar, also hugging her before she left on a shuttle. Wrex was not a man of many words, but told her that she was the only human he had come to respect. He then promptly left. Garrus was different, being more quiet and reserved at first. He requested that the two keep in regular contact via the extranet while he proceeded to achieve his goal of becoming a Spectre. She wrote him a glowing recommendation and in return, he gave her a small trinket to hang on her dog tags; it was a small metal emblem that looked like a turian hand. The item hung proudly on her tags and remained there until the end. She gripped her dog tags, silently thanking her crew, thanking Garrus, for making her life as wonderful as it was. She was at peace, and then she died.

The rest of her dream was occupied by darkness and the vague, far away sound of voices. They would cut through sometimes and she would hear snippets of medical speak, but not enough to make the words out with any clarity. She could hear her heart beating again, furious with its movements as she came to realize that she should be dead. Why wasn’t she dead? Who were those turians? Why was she here?

“...There, on the monitor. Something’s wrong.” The female turian paced around the room, checking the monitor with the male turian following suit.

“She’s reacting to outside stimuli. Showing an awareness to her surroundings.” A lengthy pause ensued before the male started speaking again. “Doctor, I think she’s waking up.” The male’s voice was elevated to a level of concern she had not yet heard from him. Her eyes peered open slightly to catch a limited view of what was happening around her.

The female moved to examine her, concern written all over what should’ve been an inexpressive face. “She isn’t ready yet! Check her stats!”

A flurry of movement was quickly followed by an exasperated gasp as medical equipment was moved forcefully to the side. The male checked what she assumed was her heart rate monitor. “Her vitals are pushing into the red zone!”

“Inject her with fluids!”

“I did! They aren’t working!”

“Sedative! Inject the sedative!”

She could see the turians in front of her clearly now as she tried unsuccessfully to get off the bed. The female walked behind her, using both hands to hold her down while the male wandered off to get a sedative. The female was leaning over her, about a foot shorter than the adult male. Her colony markings were red and more profound than those of her partner. She was wearing dark blue scrubs and an apron stained blue from copious amounts of turian blood. A mask covered most of her face and her mandibles fluttered with what she assumed was worry.

The male turian was taller than his female colleague, coming in at about seven feet and had purple colony markings lining the bottom of his mandibles. He was wearing a white lab coat that tightly hugged his carapace and black pants that accented his leg spurs. The male turian grabbed a mask as he approached, putting it on while simultaneously handling a large syringe in his hand. Once he arrived, he gently grabbed her arm, injecting the contents of the syringe into it. It took a few seconds, but her heart beat drastically decreased as she started to feel more calm. A sudden sense of drowsiness came over her. The doctors started talking again when she was on the verge of sleep.

“Heart rate dropping. Her stats are falling back into the normal range.” The male let out a long, heavy sigh, hulking over the nearby medical equipment. “That was too close... We almost lost her.”

“Run more tests. She needs more time to adjust to the new body. Moving her consciousness into it left her in a state of temporary vulnerability. I’ll watch over her to see if her condition changes. Write a report, Control needs to know about this.”

The female doctor finished her diagnosis while the male did as he was instructed, walking out of the room to write a report. Shepard drifted off shortly after, falling into a state of dreamless sleep.


	4. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard wakes up and is immediately thrown into armed conflict. Along the way, she learns of what was done to bring her back and is left with many questions.

_Location: Unknown_

The ground shook around Shepard as she lay dormant on her bed. What she assumed to be the operating room was cold and smelled of antiseptic, but that was nothing unusual; the smell of death was always prevalent in an operating room. Partially asleep, she closed her eyes again before an explosion nearby shook her awake. She could hear screams outside as she struggled to get up, slowly easing her eyes open.

“ _Wake up, Commander._ ” The voice belonged to the female turian doctor from earlier. Her eyes eventually opened to blurry surroundings, a likely side effect that her eyes were not used for a long period of time. “ _Commander, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now -- this facility is under attack._ ” Gunfire could be heard outside as she lifted herself off the bed. Shepard grimaced, holding her side in pain. Apparently, she hadn’t fully recovered from whatever this doctor had done to her yet. “ _Commander. Your scars are not fully healed, but I need you to get moving._ ”

She hoisted herself up and out of the oddly shaped surgical bed, clutching her side again temporarily before standing up straight. She probably tore a wound open from her sudden movements, hence the pain. Her hand felt wet with what she assumed was blood. She looked down at the floor to see a small puddle of blue blood pooling under her hand. Wait, blue? She brushed the thought aside and chalked it up to her brain playing tricks on her. After all, she just woke up from what looked like a medically induced coma. Hallucinations were normal. Her arm fell to her side as she observed her surroundings clearly for the first time. The room was small, white, clean, and square in its design. What she assumed to be medical equipment littered all available space aside from her bed, a few countertops, and a sink.

After her brief examination, the female turian speaking over the intercom interrupted her thoughts. “ _There’s a pistol in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry!_ ” Doing as she was told, Shepard opened the locker on the other side of the room, revealing a Carnifex heavy pistol sitting inside. She grabbed the gun with her hand, but her grip felt off. She toyed with the grip on the pistol, readjusting her finger positions. She theorized that what used to be a five fingered hand was now a three fingered hand. Damn, she must’ve lost some fingers. When she moved to check the ammo, she looked down at the grip she was holding tightly. She didn’t lose fingers as she had initially expected. Instead, she was literally staring at a turian hand. Her eyes widened at the surprise. Shepard moved her fingers, testing her hand to see if the illusion would go away. To her shock, it didn’t. The turian fingers did exactly what she had commanded her own fingers to do.

Shepard had to be dreaming. “No no no, this can’t be real! I have no ammo in this pistol, one of my wounds tore open, and now I want to know what the fuck you did to my hand!” Through the explosions, she could barely hear herself, but the change in her voice was there: it was dual toned, like a turian.

The female over the intercom sighed, likely annoyed. “ _For spirits sake, breathe! Now isn’t the time to panic - we’ll discuss the conditions of your revival later! And as for the pistol? It’s a med bay, commander!_ ”

A collection of power cells outside the med bay blew up, effectively shutting her up for now. The voice was right - the proper time for a mental breakdown came later. Her position was under attack and she wouldn’t be caught with her pants down, not again. Not after the Normandy. She shivered at the thought.

The explosion cleared her path through what used to be locked doors. One of the bodies outside, likely an enemy combatant, had flown her direction. It landed on the ground in front of her with a thermal clip attached to its belt. She took the clip off the corpse, quickly loading her pistol. Turning over the charred body revealed what used to be a human man clad in white, yellow, and black armor. “Cerberus,” she quietly muttered, hearing the dual tone in her voice again. Shepard wanted to break the mandible of whoever changed it.

“ _They hit the station hard when they found out we were holding you here,_ ” the doctor interrupted, pulling Shepard out of her mandible breaking daydream.

“Who is _we_ , exactly?” Her tone turned hostile and she swore she heard herself snarling at the doctor. She couldn’t control it. The sound was almost instinctual in that sense. Why did she snarl? What the hell did these turians turn her into?

The voice sighed again, clearly irritated with the direction their conversation had turned. “ _Not important. Keep moving._ ”

With an audible growl, Shepard made her way outside.

She saw a few turian soldiers shooting at a collection of Cerberus troops while running for cover behind a makeshift barricade. They didn’t make it in time. The two turian troops went down in a matter of seconds, outnumbered by the enemy combatants. She hid behind the turians’ barricade, firing on the human soldiers. One by one, they went down, each with a well focused shot from her pistol. Once she knew the soldiers were dead, she made her way towards an open hallway. The alarms that blared were louder here, hurting her ears slightly as she moved forward toward another door. Corpses littered the floor as she passed while she checked the perimeter for movement. Clear, she thought.

Through a window to her right, a large mech piloted by a Cerberus soldier proceeded to rip holes through three unfortunate turian soldiers. They were in a tight spot, backed into a corner. Their blue blood splattered over the windows as she watched them die in front of her. She didn’t even try hiding the horrified expression plastered on her face.

“ _Commander, they knew what they signed on for when they joined this project._ ” The voice kept a respectful tone when referring to the fallen men seconds prior. “ _Please keep moving, more Cerberus troops are heading your way._ ” Shepard silently said a few words about the fallen soldiers. She prayed to their spirits, the turian spirits, before moving on.

The hallway she traversed led to a balcony overlooking a storage area. “ _There should be a grenade launcher on the fallen soldier in front of you. Relieve him of it and neutralize the troops coming ahead._ ” A fallen turian corpse lay beneath her, clutching the aforementioned grenade launcher. She silently apologized to the dead man before taking his weapon, proceeding to position herself with practiced ease when the doors below opened. She fired. Her grenade landed under a gas tank the group of hostiles was far too close to. The Cerberus operatives on the floor below her were caught in an explosion of Shepard’s creation.

“ _Take the elevator down one floor._ ”

Shepard quickly located a large cargo elevator that ran up the length of the wall. She did as instructed, tapping on a control panel that allowed for her to be taken down a floor. Fires had broken out from the explosion, spewing through punctured holes in the fuel tanks. “ _I’m detecting gas leaks in your area. Run through the fires quickly to avoid unnecessary injury._ ”

Again, she did as she was told, holing up in another hallway. “ _Excellent work Commander, we’ll rendezvous at-t-t m… loc..ion._ ”

Someone was jamming their communications. She had to be getting closer to the source of Cerberus’ involvement if their line was breaking up so suddenly. The doctor went quiet for a few seconds before the sound of her voice filled her comms again. “ _Spirits! I h..-ve Cerb--us troops cl...ing in on m-m-my pos...ion. F...d a w.---y to th-e sh..tle bay, we’..l meet th..r.e. Sur--..raka ou..-t._ ”

Permanent radio silence followed as she moved her way through a few connecting hallways and up a flight of stairs. She found herself holed up in a small office, sharing the space with two Cerberus bodies. Shepard leaned against the wall, clutching the same side that had bothered her previously.

The wound that tore open when she woke up started bleeding again. When Shepard turned to look at the tear, she knew her mind wasn’t playing tricks; her three fingered hand was covered in blue blood. She could see the connections now, clear as day. She had three fingered hands, blue blood, and her voice was flanged; all features present on a turian.

She searched the small office, digging her new talons into drawers and rummaging through the desk in hopes of finding something with a reflective surface. Maybe a mirror would make itself apparent. Her actions were rewarded with a stainless steel surgical tray. The panic was settling in and she wanted to know what she looked like. She dumped the tools off the tray and took a good, hard look at herself.

A female turian face greeted her on the reflective surface of the tray. Her mandibles clicked and the browplates moved to match her surprised expression. She decided to talk and see how the face would react.

“I’m Commander Jane Shepard, Alliance Navy.”

The mouth moved exactly to the rhythm of her words and the mandibles fluttered each time she felt shocked. This was her face. Her brand new, exceedingly turian face. She didn’t want to look at it anymore, but at the same time, found that she couldn’t look away.

Long, protruding mandibles covered the sides of her jaw and her once prominent nose now sat flush with the rest of her face. She had beige face plates that contrasted with the darker brown shades of her leathery hide. What she assumed to be her fringe extended to the sides of her head, making their way towards the back while the top of her head remained bare. Despite how different she was now, Shepard found a certain beauty to the intricate patterns of her new face. And while almost everything about her was different, these turians had at least left her eyes the same shade of green; a small comfort.

Shepard put the surgical tray down on the counter next to her, fully intent on looking over the rest of herself. She was wearing a standard armor undersuit common with most turians, but found that her hands were exposed. For her feet, the turians working on her had given her boots; having a total of four toes with only two on each foot was disconcerting to say the least. With her hands, she had three sharp, taloned fingers per arm. How an entire species got anything done with so few fingers was beyond her. Garrus always said she had too many. Shepard smiled while recalling the fond memory. She missed him.

“Hell Garrus,” she said, talking to herself while looking at her reflection in the tray again. “You always said I would make a good turian.” An empty and bitter laugh emerged from her throat. “Look at me now.”

Shepard sighed, setting down the tray again. She’d seen her reflection enough for now. Bending down, she looted the thermal clips from the Cerberus corpses before heading out into the outside hallway. Her current objective was to get to the shuttle bay. She reached the end of the relatively short corridor with a few paces; the perks of having a new set of long legs. ‘Dog legs’ Ashley had inelegantly called them.

On the other side of an unlocked doorway was a large, open balcony. Gunfire echoed through the halls she stood in as she watched a single turian soldier fighting, taking cover behind a thick glass railing. She sprinted her way towards the soldier, taking out two of the Cerberus soldiers with a single dash before joining the man behind his cover. She took a deep breath, reloading her pistol.

From what she gathered, the turian soldier was shocked to see her; his expression bordered on genuine confusion. The soldier’s plates were a dark beige color with white colony markings covering the majority of his face. He had a more bulky appearance than the first male she saw with the doctor. His gray armor only added to the bulk, effectively making him the living manifestation of a tank. The man’s grey eyes stared straight into her own as he started speaking. “Commander, what are you doing here? They said you were still a work in progress.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “I just woke up! You probably know more than I do!” Her mandibles flared in annoyance and a high pitched sound escaped her throat. Were those her sub harmonics? The male turian registered her response, turing to fire on two more Cerberus troops. Afterwards, he responded with a sound similar to hers, his mandibles fluttering less aggressively. Apparently they were. From what she learned from Garrus, sub harmonics couldn’t be controlled and provided insight on how a turian was feeling. They were instinct and appeared whether or not you wanted them to. This was going to be hard.

“My apologies, commander. I forgot this scenario is entirely new to you. I’m Augumus Declinus. I’ve been stationed here for—” He stopped mid sentence when a massive explosion destroyed the right section of the balcony they were standing on. It held, but the structural support was drastically weaker. Augumus growled. “ _Tarc!_ The situation must be much worse than I imagined if Taana let you loose. I’ll explain your predicament, but we should get to the shuttle bay first.”

Shepard hugged the railing cover, her pistol secured firmly in her talons. “I know this isn’t the best time, but I’m sick of stumbling around when I don’t know what’s going on.”

Augumus huffed, shooting the last Cerberus trooper on the opposite balcony. “I suppose you do deserve an answer, despite how rushed I must make it.” He took a deep breath. “You and your ship were attacked by an unknown vessel, resulting in the destruction of the Normandy. You died from asphyxiation due to a suit rupture you acquired in the explosion. When we brought you here, you were nothing more than ground up lecra with some electronics slapped on for good measure. Our scientists dedicated the last two years placing your consciousness into a new body.” He smiled, his mandibles fluttering slightly as his gray eyes focused on her again. “I was hoping to give you a proper welcome back to the land of living spirits, but Cerberus ruined my plans.”

She stared at him silently with an intensity that made him flinch. On any other day, she would be proud. “Two _years?_ ” While she kept a stoic face, her sub harmonics revealed her distress. Damn it.

He nodded, directing her towards another hallway. They both raised their pistols and continued their conversation while walking. “The Human Systems Alliance officially declared you killed in action and the whole galaxy thinks you’re dead. They gave up on you. We didn’t. We wrestled with Cerberus to retrieve you because we need a hero soldiers and civilians alike can look up to. I can tell you more later, commander. Right now, we need to get to the shuttle bay. You know from experience that Cerberus doesn’t play nice.”

Shepard wanted to continue her interrogation with Augumus, but she knew he had a point. The whole station was a combat zone and she could always ask more questions when they were a safe distance away. Waving her hand, she motioned for him to follow as she continued navigating hallways. “When I first woke up, someone named Surraka was talking to me over the intercom. I think she was the doctor that worked on me.”  
  
“Yes, her name is Taana Surraka. She’s the head of Project Tarin, the project created to revive you. It was her job to bring you back to life. She poured two years and virtually unlimited resources into you, so forgive me if I’m not surprised she tried to save you, commander.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Can you still contact her? Communications have been spotty since Cerberus arrived.”

Shepard stopped in her tracks, looking around the corner wall and scanning the perimeter. When it was confirmed the area was clear of hostiles, she glanced in his direction again. “Negative. I lost contact with her a few minutes prior to our meet up. She said Cerberus troops were closing in on her location and told me to make my way to the shuttle bay.”

Augumus paused, evaluating the possible courses of action they could pursue. He motioned for her to follow, escorting her up a flight of stairs. “Our best option is a direct approach towards the shuttle bay. Knowing Taana, she’s doing everything in her power to get there now.”

The two kept walking with their pistols drawn, killing any hostiles they encountered along the way. Their journey was relatively uneventful, mostly consisting of stepping over corpses and looting heat sinks. Augumus took point, acting as a tour guide through the war torn turian station. The few live troops they ran into saluted her guide and followed the two of them as additional backup. He was likely one of the higher ranking torins among the crew stationed here. Shepard made a mental note to ask him about that later.

The group rounded a corner into a large hallway under heavy fire from Cerberus soldiers. The three turian soldiers following them saluted and departed to assist in fighting off the wave of heavily armed human supremacists. Gunfire turned to echos as the two paced side by side, distancing themselves away from the scene.

“The shuttle bay is just up there,” Augumus said, gesturing to a large staircase up ahead. He motioned for her to follow. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“What about everyone else? Do they have a way off this station?”

He turned to face her. “Commander, a good majority of station personnel already left on shuttles or escape pods. Those who didn’t are soldiers engaged in armed conflict around the station. They will be aided; rest assured, backup is on the way. We did, however, lose many good men today... May the spirits guide the souls of those who lost their lives.” He put his head down as he walked, silently thanking the deceased for their sacrifice. Shepard did the same. She hated losing good soldiers in a fight. Knowing they were good people made the sacrifice even harder to bear.

They reached the top of the stairs, scanning the perimeter for any sign of a threat. There were none.

The shuttle bay was powered down with the emergency lighting illuminating the area. Only a single shuttle remained parked and the docking clamps were tightly locked in place around it.

“This is our way off the station Commander,” he said, sealing the doors behind him. Augumus looked up towards the darkened ceiling, registering slight movement. He smiled, cupping his hands around his mouth to call out to the person above them. “Hello Taana, nice of you to join us! I was told you were occupied by Cerberus troops! I must say, they don’t make for good company!”

A silhouette shadowed in the darkness of the ceiling jumped down from one of the roof pillars and onto the floor. The female turian looked between the two of them, setting her eyes on the commander. “Whoever told you that would be right.” Her mandibles fluttered slightly, widening into a smile. “Hello, Commander. Doctor Taana Surraka,” she said, giving her a turian salute. “I’m the head of Project Tarin. We talked earlier when you woke up.” Taana looked behind her to check the doors Augumus sealed. They were clear, but that wouldn’t last long. “I promise to tell you more once we leave the station. Right now, we’re short on time.” Once she finished her brief introduction, she pointed her talon to the worn out armor undersuit Shepard was wearing, gently flicking aside some of the worn fabric. Upon closer inspection, the doctor noticed blue blood clotting on the side she poked. The commander wasn’t fully healed yet and likely tore something. Taana sighed. “You were scheduled to wake up two weeks from now. I suppose it was too much for me to hope nothing would tear open.”

Augumus glared at Taana for her sarcastic remark. Now was not the time for her criticisms. His sub harmonics rang out loudly as his mandibles fluttered with irritation. “We need to tend to her injuries _immediately._ Taana, prep the shuttle.”

She grumbled, heading in the direction of the shuttle. A few seconds later, it powered up and the engines came to life. The clamps around the turian shuttle released, leaving it floating above its designated landing pad.

“Come on,” Augumus spoke, gesturing Shepard to follow with an outstretched hand.

She followed him into the shuttle, taking a seat across from the two occupants. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this station to last a lifetime.”

Taana leaned back in her seat as the shuttle door closed. “Or two in your case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tarc - Shit.  
> Lecra - A kind of dextro meat.  
> Tarin - Female turian over the age of 15.  
> Torin - Male turian over the age of 15.


	5. Means of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard meets the person behind her resurrection.

_Location: Enroute to [redacted]_

Shepard sat across from the two other turians in the shuttle, staring out the window at the empty atmosphere of space outside. Looking at the stars wasn’t as comforting as it used to be and her side still hurt. Taana slathered an entire tube of dextro medi gel in the wound, but the dull pain was still there. She was lost in her thoughts, turning her gaze to the floor while not actually gazing at anything. She daydreamed a lot on the SR1 too. At least they didn’t change that about her.

Shepard looked up and noticed the two other shuttle occupants looking at her. Taana hid her emotions behind a cold and calculated mask while Augumus remained neutral. The doctor straightened herself, focusing her gaze on her while Augumus pulled up a few files on his omnitool. “Before you meet with Control,” she started, “we need to ask a few questions to evaluate your condition.”

“Taana, are these tests required? The Commander cleared a path through the Cerberus soldiers with a _pistol._ It takes us years to train similar talent.” His neutral face briefly turned up a grin after stating the compliment. Shepard was too focused on Taana to notice.

“She’s been dead two years, Augumus,” she said, looking at the Commander. Her stare was still cold, but Shepard could tell she was curious. “We need to confirm that her personality and memories are intact. Start with personal history.”

Augumus faked an annoyed sigh, chuckling lightly afterwards as he pulled up a new file on his omnitool. “Let the testing commence; our records show you grew up on Earth. Files pertaining to your personal life before your military career are practically nonexistent, but we do know that you were orphaned at a young age. At the galactic standard age of eighteen, you enlisted in the Systems Alliance and won a medal fighting Batarians during the Skyllian Blitz. Do you remember this?”

Shepard quietly recollected the unpleasant memory. The Batarians were relentless savages and it had taken everything to hold her position. Soldiers were dragged away left and right, their enemies taunted them mercilessly, and supplies had dwindled far faster than she originally thought they would. Added to that, the panicking civilians didn’t help. Mobilizing them was the best and only option. When the Alliance finally showed up, it had been a major victory.

“A lot of lives depended on me holding that position. I did what I had to.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Augumus. “However you wish to put it, you were an excellent combatant. My regiment was impressed with the skills you demonstrated and I confess, they are not the easiest to please. Is this enough information to go on, Taana?” He turned to the doctor for a response.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Let’s move to a more recent event.” She turned to Shepard, visibly tensing before asking the next question. Once it left her mandibles, she immediately knew why. “On Virmire, where you destroyed Saren’s cloning facility, you had to leave a member of your squad behind to die in the blast.”

Shepard kept her face as neutral as possible. She didn’t know these turians very well and had no intention of letting them see her squirm. Unfortunately for her, Augumus continued where Taana left off.

“Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was killed in action. The reports say that it was your decision. Why did you leave her behind?” He gave her a look after visibly tensing, knowing full well how she felt about their line of questioning. Shepard wasn’t fluid with turian facial expressions, but was mildly certain his gaze was one of sympathy. She understood. The questions were required, despite the pain they brought forth. He thought they were disrespectful to her, Taana was indifferent, and Shepard retained her silence. She would endure.

“I left a friend to die that day and I didn’t do it casually. I had to save as many people as I could. Ash gave her life for the rest of the team. Without her, I couldn’t stop Saren. She died a hero.”

“I understand, Commander. I’m not judging your decision. Both my regiment and my superiors agreed that Saren’s facility had to be destroyed. The man was a disgrace to the turian race.” He turned to the doctor again. “Is this enough information, Taana?”

“There are other tests we should run—“

“Come on Taana. Please stop testing the Commander. I know from personal experience that these questions can be emotionally draining. She has the memories, and I can vouch for her combat skills.”

After a short pause, she let out a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. Let us hope that Control accepts our little field test as evidence enough.”

\-----

_Location: [redacted]_

Shepard disembarked from the shuttle and walked into a large, open room with a massive window looking out into space. She restrained herself from glancing outside, instead focusing her attention on Taana. The doctor was typing away on a small terminal located in front of an unlocked door. Augumus stood to the side near the exit, leaning back on the railing while reading documents on his omnitool.

“Control will see you now, Commander. He’s waiting for you on the other side of that door,” she said, pointing to the door behind her. The button was shining a welcoming green, indicating that it was unlocked. She entered through the door and went down the stairs to find a large circular pad on the floor of what was otherwise an empty room. Not knowing what else to do and feeling rather skeptical of her upcoming meeting with Control, she stepped on the pad. The circular area lit up, lifting to surround her. Shepard understood now: she was standing in a QEC.

Her new surroundings revealed a tall male turian wearing a casual black suit. His arms were folded neatly behind his back in anticipation. The military posture conveyed authority that would’ve had any other turian saluting in a heartbeat. She wasn’t in the mood to be a good turian and didn’t have time for his games.

“Commander Shepard,” he called, pacing slowly around the room he was in. The area was dark, so she couldn’t see much despite her improved vision.

“Control,” she said, her speech delivery coming off a little cold. She crossed her arms while her new sub harmonics sung of her irritation. “I thought we were meeting face to face.”

The man kept his ground, standing tall as he turned to look at her. A smile spread across his mandibles. From what she gathered, he looked pleased to see her. “I apologize for the miscommunication then. The precaution was necessary, and is not unusual for people who know what we know.”

Her brow plates furrowed and her frown intensified tenfold. “And what is it that you and I know?”

He started pacing again, walking around her projected holographic form on his end. “We’re going up against the greatest threat of our brief existence.”

“The Reapers.” She growled lowly at the mention of the machine race. If Control’s organization brought her back for this reason, the Reapers had to be up to something. Nothing good ever came from their meddling.

He smiled at her again, putting a stop to his pacing. The man stood up straight and directed his full attention at her. His gaze was unsettling, like being mentally dressed down by your immediate superior. “I’m pleased to see your memory is still intact. The doctors did a good job. How are you feeling? Are you fit for duty?”

While she was hesitant to give Control any information pertaining to herself, she surmised that he wasn’t an enemy. The establishment she was being held in didn’t match those of any turian supremacist groups, Facinus being the main contender, and the two turians she talked to before didn’t seem overly hostile, despite her upbringing as a human. At that observation, she decided to ease up on her hostile tone. The man seemed important and she still wanted answers from him. There was no need to be aggressive to a possible ally, especially one that brought her back from the dead. She would hold back on her suspicions for now.

“I’m fit for duty,” she said bluntly. “What are the Reapers doing that you decided to bring me back?”

His brow plates furrowed into a frown. “We’re at war. No one wants to admit it, but the Council races are under attack. While you were unconscious, entire colonies have been disappearing. The perpetrators are targeting human and turian colonists. From what we pieced together with our intelligence, we think someone is working for the Reapers just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign. You’ve seen it yourself and you defeated all of them. That’s just one reason why we chose you.”

Shepard inhaled. What he said was true and she agreed with his information, but that didn’t tell her who he worked for or why they brought her back as a turian. “What organization decided that I was important enough to bring back?”

“Project Tarin, the project that brought you back to life, is a classified operation created and funded by Blackwatch.” He raised his head up after the statement, standing tall and proud while he waited for her to soak up the information.

Shepard had heard a few things about the organization during her time as a Spectre. Blackwatch provided intelligence for the turian hierarchy and handled black ops. They were secretive and most operations conducted by the group were highly classified. In short, they made turian problems go away.

“We started the project after we found your corpse twenty three months ago. Blackwatch wanted your knowledge on the reapers and decided to bring you back in hopes that you would work with us. When the colonists started disappearing, our situation became more urgent and your cooperation was paramount.”

She let out a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding, her mandibles hugging tightly against her face. “If what you say about these disappearances is true, I would consider helping you. But before I do anything for you or Blackwatch, I want to know why I came back to life as a turian.”

Control remained silent; he was quiet for longer than she would’ve liked. After a period of time that was too long to be considered comfortable, he spoke up again. “There were medical complications, commander. We could not regrow your body with what was left of your corpse. There was simply too little to work with. The doctors say that they could only recover your brain, but that was enough to transfer your memories into a new body. In hopes to avoid detection from Cerberus and other lethal organizations, we revived you as a turian.”

Control’s reasoning was lacking in context and proved to be more of a brief summary than any answer she had hoped for. Her mandibles twitched slightly as she thought it over. While it wasn’t much information, it was more than she had a minute ago. She still didn’t completely understand the circumstances that led to her revival as an entirely different species, but for now, she would go with it. Shepard turned her attention to Control again, staring directly at him.

She narrowed her eyes. “I want full access to the project files and a copy of the procedure report. It’s my damn body and I want to know what exactly was done to bring me back. If you want my cooperation, those are my terms.” Her sub harmonics dared him to challenge her as she bared her teeth, her mandibles close to her face. “Now, if it’s like you said, colonists are going missing and we have no time to lose. I’ll need a team, and a damn good one.”

He pulled up his omnitool on his end, typing in a few commands before he looked at her again. “You’ll get dossiers on our best operatives and some excellent specialists, should you convince them to work with you.”

She shook her head. “I had an excellent team. I want the people who helped me stop Saren.”

Control closed his omnitool interface, looking at her with a stern expression. “Commander, they moved on and are deeply entrenched in their lives. You may be alive, but as far as the galaxy is concerned, Jane Shepard is dead. No one will believe a lone female turian trying to convince the races that she is the first human Spectre.”

Shepard’s face softened slightly. She had never actually thought about that. When she woke up in the operating room of a turian space station, fighting her way through various Cerberus troopers, she hadn’t considered that her friends moved on or that they might not actually recognize her. Given her current appearance, she figured her reunion with each wouldn’t be pleasant. She had plates now, so Wrex might beat her up, Tali might be afraid of her, Liara might throw her through a wall, Kaiden wouldn’t trust her, and Garrus… She had no idea what the sniper might do.

“Then what do you suggest?” She asked, her voice a little quieter than before. Shepard couldn’t hide the sadness in her sub harmonics no matter how hard she tried.

He ignored the quiet whimpering emitting from her sub vocals as he pulled out a datapad, using it to authorize information pertinent to Shepard. “I suggest you forge a new path. Upon waking up, you were issued a new identity. One with a history detailing the actions of a brave turian soldier. As I stated previously, Systems Alliance Commander Jane Shepard is dead. Blackwatch Commander Novilea Dexilus, however, is very much alive.”


	6. Dexilus and Zorah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard reads the dossier detailing her new identity and finds a familiar face on Freedom's Progress.

_Location: Freedom’s Progress - Terminus Systems_

Control’s words stuck with her on the shuttle ride to the colony. The galaxy knew her by a new name now and the thought was rather unsettling. She changed her name many times during her adolescence, mostly to get out of conflict with mercenaries, but her personal history and species remained the same then. What bothered her was the sheer amount of change forced on her. The only sense of relief she had was knowing how little the turians actually knew about her early life. It was something she had hoped to never relive, through conversation or otherwise.

Jane Shepard had never been her real name. It was what she wrote on the Alliance form when she signed up for military service on her eighteenth birthday. Before that, she had been homeless; given up for adoption by deadbeat parents and living off of scraps and the occasional granola bar she stole from a nearby convenience store. No one knew her name. Even she didn’t know her name, because no one had given her one.

She hung around a poor multi-species neighborhood, her only form of shelter being a makeshift bed in the back of a mechanically ancient gasoline SUV parked in the bad part of Chicago. ‘Old Reliable’ as she had called the vehicle, sparked her unnatural love for the Mako later on in her life.

The local humans who saw her called her Jane Doe. When told what the name meant by the human population, the other species around the little area followed suit. It was rather fitting, considering the name itself was commonly given to human females you couldn’t identify. Of course the recruiter, David Anderson, would’ve caught on if she wrote that, so she wrote ‘Shepard’ as her last name instead. She had always wanted to explore, and the last name of the first American to go to space seemed appropriate for what she wanted to do with her life.

Her current situation was different in that she had to learn about her past rather than live it. The ride was a long one, so she decided to take the opportunity to read up on her new history that Control sent her. She imagined it would be like reading the biography of someone else.

Shepard booted up her omnitool and opened the file with her new name on it. Shortly afterwards, she started reading.

_Commander Novilea Dexilus did not attend boot camp and isn’t a citizen of the hierarchy. She grew up on Earth where her parents abandoned her in a rush to leave the planet._

The file said they were mercenaries who cared more about themselves than her. Control sure knew how to make her new life sound miserable. Oddly enough though, there were many similarities to her actual early life.

_She grew up homeless on the streets of Detroit—_

Wrong city.

_—while living off of scraps of food from behind one of the only dextro food plants on the planet. At the age of fifteen, she acquired a ticket that booked her passage to Digeris, a turian colony in the Castellus System of the Apien Crest. Upon arrival, she settled on the streets of the capital city of Apparitus, stealing food from grocery stores to survive._

While it was here that the similarities deviated slightly, she found her new life to be an interesting read. Apparently Control had a knack for storytelling.

_Little is known about her history on Digeris. She appears again when Cerberus attempted to attack the colony. Dexilus successfully pushed back a large group of soldiers armed with a Carnifex pistol and a knife, garnering the attention of Blackwatch. She has been a member since then and has completed many classified missions with a high rate of success._

Paired with the story was a readout of her field scores, combat kills, and mission successes. The mission successes were classified while the scores and kills were the exact same ones listed on her Spectre profile before she died, effectively making the rest of her file a copy paste job. She turned off her omnitool, looking up at the two occupants sitting across from her. A few minutes later, the colony, Freedom’s Progress, came into view.

“We are on approach towards the colony now, Commander.” Taana pushed a few buttons on her omnitool, focusing her attention on Shepard. “Control consulted his superiors and placed us under your command. What are your orders?”

Shepard thought it over. She just met the two turians facing her a few hours ago and had no idea what their skills were in a firefight. She figured it best to ask about the disappearances first. “What did you find at the other colonies?”

Augumus shifted in his seat, leaning forward to meet her wandering gaze. “Blackwatch came up empty with the previous colonies. It isn’t unusual for crime scenes to be clean, but these were unnaturally so. There were no bodies, no signs of a struggle, and no genetic traces of anything left behind. The colonists just...disappeared.”

He leaned back after his brief explanation of their findings, letting off a sigh. He looked tired; the sudden paleness of his facial plates and the darkness under his heavy silver eyes gave that away. When he told her about the previous scenes they were sent to investigate, his sub harmonics communicated the sadness he felt at not being able to help the missing colonists. Shepard understood the sentiment — he wanted to help people, but with the way their investigations were going, he had no idea how. These two had been to several colonies and had come back with similar results every time: they were vacant and there were no traces of anything left behind. These people deserved better.

When thinking about his sadness, she came to realize something else: how did she understand his sub harmonics? They were how she knew he was sad in the first place. On the station during the firefight and the shuttle ride over to meet Control, she was struggling to understand the secondary language aspects of the species she was now a part of. Now though, it had gotten easier.

The other strange thought she had to dwell on was the language. She understood the turians clearly and could hear their sub vocals easily, but found it odd that nothing was lost in translation. She decided to turn off her translator later when she found a human in order to test this theory. For now though, she had to break in the new troops.

“Are you sure you’ll be comfortable following my orders?”

Augumus raised a brow plate in surprise at the question. “We did not bring you back to life just to second guess you, Commander. Control assigned us to you, so we will follow your orders.”

Shepard had forgotten how ingrained turians were when it came to following orders. It made perfect sense that he found the question rather ridiculous. “What makes you think this investigation will turn up anything new?”

“At the other colonies we visited, official investigators, looters, and salvage teams arrived first. No one has been to this colony yet and we hope to be the first ones there before anyone contaminates the scene.” He pulled up pictures of the other colonies on his omnitool, showing them to her. The previous crime scenes were littered with investigators and law enforcement officers at the time when the colonists disappeared. Preventing accidental evidence tampering and crime scene contamination with that many people was almost impossible.

“Our first priority is to look for survivors,” Shepard ordered.

Taana sat up in her seat. “It is highly unlikely that you’ll find survivors, commander. No one was left at the other colonies we searched. They were completely deserted.”

“While I agree with you Taana, I sincerely hope you’re wrong this time. Anything is better than another empty town.” Augumus sighed, settling back in his seat as they came to land.

The shuttle touched down on the cement landing pad and the three occupants walked out with their guns drawn. Shepard was given a set of medium turian armor after her meeting with Control that she thought was average at best. It was solid black and had no defining features other than the Blackwatch logo on the chestplate. It worked fine for the time being, but as soon as she found an armor shop, she would switch it out.

The surrounding atmosphere was cold and snow gently rained down on them. Shepard felt her armor heater kick in while she watched her ground team shiver. If they were cold in this, she knew they would’ve hated Noveria.

They walked towards the first building, opening the door to reveal an empty home. The lights flickered on once they detected motion. A look at their surroundings revealed that Dinner plates were set and food was on the table. Everything looked as if it were normal - except everyone just got up and left. Augumus mirrored her thoughts exactly.

“Did they get up and leave during dinner? I can't find any life signs.” He looked puzzled, something her expression mimicked. Shepard cringed at the smell, despite none of the food being expired; it looked as if it were set a few hours ago. Taking note of this, she concluded that her sense of smell changed. Levo food smelled awful now. No wonder Garrus used to stay away when the crew ate.

The group walked ahead and out of the prefab, heading into a few more to gather materials and explore the homes. The result was much the same with no one there to greet them.

“No signs of a struggle,” Taana said with a confused undertone. Shepard and Augumus shared her confusion as it rumbled through their sub vocals. She found it odd that her sub harmonics were more likely to act up while around other turians.

Their search eventually led to a large door which, when opened, revealed a LOKI mech opening fire on their group. Shepard pulled out her Carnifex, taking out the mech with a single headshot. Three more mechs made their way down the stairs, firing on the group. Taana took out the first mech, pulling it over to her only to destroy it with an omniblade while Augumus pulled a Claymore from behind his back, easily taking care of the other two. A large group of FERNIS mechs swarmed them soon after they finished off the LOKIs. Shepard took out the first two while Augumus took out the other three.

“Those mechs should not be hostile. Why didn’t they recognize us from our IFF tags?” Augumus asked, keeping his gun drawn.

“Someone reprogrammed them to attack on sight. We’re not alone here,” Taana said, letting out a small growl.

They continued through the prefabs, making their way through what looked like a stone mining plant as they fought off three more LOKI mechs. They went down quickly as Shepard directed the other two turians towards the home in the back - its lock just turned green, so they went inside.

Upon opening the door, they were met with three quarians checking their weapons at a table. They drew their guns on them as the quarians stood up, returning the gesture with their weapons drawn. “Stop right there!” A male quarian said, standing in front of the other two.

“Praza!” A female voice said from the back of the room. The fourth quarian walked out from a room near the rear of the prefab, gripping her side arm. She didn’t draw it from its holster. “You said you’d let me handle this.”

The voice was familiar and, when examined closer, so was the suit she wore. The fourth quarian stepped in front of her armed comrades, putting her arms out in front of both parties in an effort to make peace. Shepard couldn’t believe it; out of an entire galaxy teeming with life, she ran into the one quarian who was like a sister to her. She found herself staring directly at Tali.

Shepard lowered her weapon as a sign of trust, holstering the Carnifex on her belt. Taana and Augumus hesitantly followed her lead. Tali's team, with some silent gesturing from her, also lowered their weapons. Good, they could talk.

“If you'll let us pass through,” she continued, “we'll give you no trouble. My team and I are looking for a quarian on his pilgrimage. He came here to help the colonists.” The mask hid Tali's expression well, but her body language spoke magnitudes. She was uncomfortable and by the looks of it, her own squad didn't trust her. Shepard decided to ease her tension a bit.

“Maybe we can help you. Our current mission is to figure out what happened to the colonists. With some luck, your pilgrim could still be here and might have some insight to offer on their disappearance.”

Praza looked at them with some confusion, putting away his lowered weapon. “Why would a turian squad care about the disappearance of a human colony’s populace?”

This time, Augumus answered, crossing his arms. “Our superiors sent us here because the same abductions are also taking place on turian colonies. We were tasked with finding a way to prevent any further disappearances and right now, this requires that we figure out what happened to the colonists of this world.”

Praza grunted, satisfied with the answer he supplied them. Tali's body language was still conversing just how nervous she was. This position had to be new for her.

“I'd like to go over a few more details with your squad leader,” Tali said, directing her words to the two turians shadowing Shepard. They nodded in agreement, not seeming to mind. She motioned for her to follow, directing her to a room at the back of the prefab. Shepard obliged, walking behind her and into the small room while the others geared up. Tali turned to face her after closing the door.

“I’ve seen enough turians to know about sub harmonics. I can’t hear them, but I understand mandible movements — you were distressed...” Her response seemed genuine and her demeanor was sympathetic. “Was it my crew? Keelah, I'm still new at this.”

“No, it wasn't your crew. I know how to handle soldiers like that.” Shepard said, looking at her with a sad smile. “It was you, Tali.”

“M-Me? Wait, how do you know my name?” She was shocked by the sudden revelation that the squad commander, who she just met, already knew her name without any prior introduction.

How were you supposed to tell a valued member of your crew that their dead commander was resurrected by turians and, in doing so, was turned into one? How could you possibly explain something so sensitive and hard to believe? Shepard had no idea, but she was willing to say anything to convince Tali of her identity.

Shepard leaned closer to her, her voice barely above a whisper. “It's me - Shepard. A turian group found my body and brought me back to life. They, uh...changed a few things.”

Tali tensed up and backed away as if she had seen a ghost. She technically had. It was obvious that their conversation was making her visibly uncomfortable, even more so than before. The young quarian wanted to believe her, but their current situation was dire and a turian claiming to be Shepard was the most absurd thing she’d heard in her life. But the turian wasn’t backing down.

“I have the medical records to prove it, should you need them, but I’d much rather babble about how I use to lose my credits to you when we played Skyllian Five in the cargo hold. You’d always beat me and you weren’t a shy winner. And I still remember our conversation about the pressure put on you to retrieve something for the Migrant Fleet during your pilgrimage. Did that geth data help you at all? I hope it was enough to live up to your father’s wishes and take the stress off you.”

Tali’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard. The proof was undeniable and those conversations had been private, so the turian couldn’t be playing her. She believed her and upon coming to the realization, she gave her a hug. “I-It did… I can’t believe it’s you! Y-You’re alive!”

Shepard gladly accepted her hug, giving one back to the young quarian. “Yeah, I got lucky…” She pulled away, giving Tali the best smile she could muster. It really was great to see a familiar face, so to speak. “Now come on, let’s go get your quarian.”

————

Shepard had been right about Tali’s group. They didn’t trust her enough to lead and they paid the price when they moved ahead. One of the heavy YMIR mechs reprogrammed by Veetor neutralized most of her squad and injured the rest. After Shepard’s team took out the heavy mech in a brief firefight, the quarian was relatively easy to find, settling in a small camera room at the back of the loading dock they stood in.

Veetor was traumatized, sprouting gibberish about swarms when the three turians arrived to find him. All recordings from the vid feeds he was watching confirmed Shepard’s fears: the Reapers were likely involved and the Collectors, a rare species through the Omega 4 relay, were the culprit behind the missing colonists. What they needed the colonists for, she had no idea.

The quarian offered up his omnitool data and Shepard saved a copy of the camera recordings to a datapad. After the exchange, Tali came in to collect Veetor and when they hugged again, saying their goodbyes, Shepard secretly copied her new identity and medical files to the young quarian’s omnitool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Old Reliable' is an aging Sports Utility Vehicle (SUV) known to be silver with a beige interior.
> 
> \-----
> 
> If you liked the story, please make sure to leave a comment! They make my day and motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> Also, for the next chapter, I’m considering a method where I’ll write as Dexilus instead of Shepard. (Using method 2 instead of 1, basically.) Please tell me what you think! Here’s an example:
> 
> Method 1) Shepard found it odd that she understood her sub vocals better now than she did before.  
> Method 2) Dexilus found it odd that she understood her sub vocals better now than she did before.


	7. Resemblance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Control confirms the Collectors are behind the attacks, but before Shepard can leave, he wants her to investigate a ship and its crew.

_Location: [redacted]_

It didn’t take long for the light of the QEC to surround Shepard again after she got back. Control wanted a mission report and after seeing Tali on Freedom’s Progress, her spirits were lifted. The light walls fully formed around her, darkening the area while Control’s holographic form materialized. He was wearing the same black suit and stood with the same military posture, poised with his hands held behind his back.

“Dexilus, excellent work on Freedom’s Progress. The quarians forwarded confirmation that Veetor’s data is accurate; we looked over their information ourselves and know they are telling the truth. You and I may have different methods, but I can’t argue with your results.” He looked at her with an expression of pride, spreading his mandibles into a smile. Shepard knew what he was doing. He was calling her by her new turian name in an attempt to familiarize her with it. While she found herself uncomfortable with the sudden change, she knew it was necessary. Exercising effort to become a cover identity ensured the safety of the cover and in doing so, subconsciously tricked the person into thinking they were their cover. For this reason, she figured Control made her new identity similar on purpose, despite his limited information on her early life.

“More importantly,” he continued. “You confirmed that the Collectors are behind the abductions.” There was a sure tone to his voice that suggested she proved one of his assumptions correct. One she didn’t know about. Shepard wouldn’t put it past him if he already knew about the Collectors.

“Why do I get the feeling you knew about them already?” She said, putting her thoughts out in the open while simultaneously crossing her arms.

“I suspected them after the first few colonies were hit, but I needed proof. The Collectors have unknown motives and rarely show themselves. When they do make an appearance, they travel to the Terminus Systems, looking to gather items or specimens most consider unimportant. Often in exchange for their technology. When they complete this process, they disappear as quickly as they arrived; back beyond the unmapped Omega 4 relay. We’ve had no evidence of direct aggression by the Collectors until now.”

From what she pieced together, the species sounded private in their affairs. In a crude sense, they were scientists. Unethical scientists lacking in morals set on being the galaxy’s bogeyman. Control’s information, however, brought up another interesting question. “Why is the Omega 4 relay unmapped? What do we know about it?”

“No ship passing through it has ever returned. We are not entirely sure why this is, but we have an educated guess: It’s possible that the relay reacts differently to Collector vessels, allowing them safe passage. If they can manipulate relays, that’s just further evidence of their connection with the reapers.”

“Any ideas on why they shifted their focus to humans and turians?”

“If the Collectors are agents for the reapers, there might be a variety of reasons. Saren failed Sovereign when you stopped him and humanity played a huge role in its destruction. That might have been enough to draw their attention and place the blame of Sovereign’s defeat on both species. What really concerns me is why they bother abducting the colonists. Once they’re paralyzed, why not just kill them?”

Most turians never took prisoners of war, so it was understandable why the notion itself left him confused. Shepard pondered the thought. She had an idea what they might be up to and it wasn’t good. The reapers might be using the Collectors to build an army out of the colonists. The operation would have to be massive in scale and another colony would go missing soon, but nothing in the galaxy was free. The Collectors would surely want something. What could they possibly gain from this?

“What are the Collectors getting from these deals?” She asked, purging a sudden Eden Prime flashback from her memory. An army meant husks and Shepard hated the moral bankruptcy involved when the reapers created husks.

“The Collectors keep to themselves. We know too little about them to predict their motives. What information we do have is a list of their habits. They usually seek out species with rare genetic mutations or abnormalities. To obtain these specimens, they pay slavers and merc groups exorbitant sums, and then they leave. But they’ve never targeted an entire species before, let alone two. Their previous sample sizes were in the dozens, not the hundreds of thousands.”

Shepard frowned. Control was always well informed, so it didn’t make sense for him to be armed with so little information. Added to that, he was being overly careful with how he answered her questions. “You’re holding something back. How do you know the reapers are involved?”

“The patterns are there, deep in the data. If you know where to look, you will find the connections. The Council, the Alliance, and the Hierarchy want to believe the reaper threat died with Sovereign. You and I know better. I refuse to abandon reason in favor of shallow political lies that say Sovereign was a geth creation. We need to take the fight to them. I will continue tracking the Collectors. When they make their next appearance, I will notify you and your team. Be ready.”

Before he turned to leave, Shepard held up a three taloned hand. She already knew her old team was unavailable, but she didn’t want that to stop her from asking Control how they were. “Before we end this conversation, I want the whereabouts on a few of my old team members.”

Control pulled up a small screen next to the QEC, typing in a few commands and bringing up something resembling a search screen. The small screen listed a few names and descriptions relatively short in length were tagged under each one. He predicted that she’d ask about them.

“Where’s Liara T’Soni?”

“She’s on Illium. My sources say the doctor is working for the Shadow Broker. If so, she cannot be trusted.”

If Liara staked out a position working for the Shadow Broker, it meant she was in the business of information. Shepard’s mandibles fluttered with slight discomfort. She had heard many unsettling rumors about the broker over the years.

“Where’s Urdnot Wrex?”

“The krogan returned to Tuchanka. My sources say he hasn’t left the smoldering rock in over a year. He’s attempting to unite the krogan clans.”

Shepard narrowed her eyes. His condescending tone and the clear phrasing of his words made it blatantly obvious that Control didn’t like the krogan. She thought he of all people, given his position, would be more impartial towards the species. Apparently not.

“Where’s Kaidan Alenko?”

“He’s still with the Alliance. Promoted I think. His file is surprisingly well classified.”

If most operations in his file were classified, his promotion moved him up quite a bit. Shepard decided that when she eventually ran into him, she’d congratulate him on his new rank.

“What about Tali? She already helped me on Freedom’s Progress.”

“That was unexpected. I need to gather more information before committing to that.”

What Tali was doing on Freedom’s Progress had been important. She rescued a young quarian colonist trapped on the colony while on his pilgrimage. Shepard helped Tali and got the data in return to prove the Collectors were behind the attacks on human and turian colonies.

“Where’s Garrus Vakarian?”

Shepard held her mandibles tight against her face in preparation for the whereabouts of her last teammate. She had no idea how her best friend would react to her when she found him, but she at least wanted to know he was safe. What he might think of her transformation when she found him frightened her.

“He disappeared a few months after the Alliance declared you killed in action. We haven’t been able to locate him.”

Shepard remained quiet. Her best friend was gone and no one knew where he was. It tugged at her heart strings and she swore a whimper escaped through her sub vocals. His disappearance could mean a number of things though. Maybe he left the Citadel and became the Spectre he always wanted to be.

“You’re a leader Dexilus. I trust you to do what is necessary.”

She scoffed at the empty platitude. “You worry about the Collectors. I’ll make sure my team is ready.”

Control nodded, satisfied with her response. “Good. Two things before you go. First, head to Omega and find Mordin Solus. He’s a brilliant Salarian scientist; cunning in all aspects of the word. Our intelligence suggests he may know how to counteract the Collectors’ seeker swarms.”

“I’ll look into it. And what else?”

“A few days ago, an unregistered frigate was found attempting to disable the defense networks of well known hierarchy space stations. We captured the ship during its core vent cycle and forcefully boarded the craft; the crew was brought here for interrogation. I would like you to question the prisoners.”

Shepard’s brow plates rose in surprise. Why would someone disable the defense networks of these stations? It made no sense, considering most were travel destinations or tourist shuttle ports. The attackers would have nothing to gain. Unless they found the more secretive bases. If so, maybe they were looking for something. “I can do that.”

“Excellent. They are currently being held in the holding cells five floors below you. I will have someone waiting to take you there. Should any questions arise, feel free to ask the soldiers or staff.”

“Unregistered implies that the vessel has no name, but nothing was said about its affiliation. Who’s crew is this?”

“The ship we captured was created and staffed by Cerberus.”

———

Control sent the station schematics to her omnitool after she was briefed on the mission. Interrogating Cerberus prisoners was difficult, to put it mildly. The organization operated in the shadows and everyone under its employment umbrella was well trained. When tortured, Alliance soldiers only provided the enemy a name, rank, and serial number. Cerberus agents offered less and often kept quiet. Some went as far as committing suicide to avoid giving information. If the crew she was sent to interrogate was anything like their agents, getting information out of them would not be easy.

Upon entering the hangar on her way to holding, Shepard chanced a look at the Cerberus frigate Blackwatch captured. She stopped in her tracks, her mandibles visibly lowering and her eyes widening in shock at the sight of it. The ship Cerberus used for disabling hierarchy systems had an uncanny resemblance to the Normandy. If she had to guess, an inside tour would wield similar results.

The frigate looked brand new. It was large and had an overall chrome color with black and yellow highlights. Cerberus logos covered the front of the ship near the airlock entrance and the rear sprouted twin fins in between its four main thrusters. The only written identification were the large letters ‘SR2’ painted on the side of the hull. And given the many similarities, Shepard assumed that the ship harbored an IES stealth system similar to the one on the Normandy SR1; it was the only possible explanation of how the ship ventured so close without the hierarchy noticing.

Casting her gaze off to the side, she noticed a platoon of turian soldiers surrounding the ship, studying its construction while another group walked out from the ship’s interior, carrying supplies, datapads, and large boxes. They were in the process of stripping the frigate.

A young turian male approached her from the platoon deconstructing the ship, giving her a standard turian salute. “Commander Dexilus?”

“Yes?” She answered, turning slightly to observe the soldier. He was the same height as her, coming in at around six foot eight and wore dark blue armor. His plates were dark brown and the colony markings adorning his face were a pale white, contrasting with his aqua colored eyes. The soldier’s stance was rigid; she guessed he was still in his mandatory service years.

“Control told us you were coming,” he continued. “If you would please follow me, I’ll take you to the holding cells ma’am.”

She nodded, following the young turian. He led her through the hangar and down a narrow hallway, escorting her into a small room that looked into an interrogation box through a two way mirror. It was likely this was where she would be extracting information from the Cerberus crew. The soldier pointed to an unlocked door that led inside the interrogation box. “If you would please take a seat in that room there, commander. We will bring the prisoners to you one by one. When you are done with the one we brought you, knock thrice on the mirror and we will bring you the next one. If you stumble upon some important information, knock on the mirror twice and I will be back to report your findings to Control.”

After giving her instructions on how to proceed with the interrogations, the soldier left to bring her a prisoner. Shepard walked into the bland interrogation room, taking a seat in the chair that allowed her back to lean against the mirror. The room itself was empty apart from a table and two chairs, both of which were designed for turians. She made herself comfortable, sitting up straight when the soldier entered interrogation with the first prisoner.

“One of fifteen, Commander,” the soldier said, deliberately forcing the prisoner down into the chair. He departed shortly after that, leaving the omnicuffed crew member in front of her; they directed a positively murderous glare her way. Shepard let out an audible sigh. Her species change was already making this interrogation more difficult.

———

Zach Matthews, Richard Hadley, Sarah Patel, Vadim Rolston, Thomas Hawthorne, Jenny Goldstein, Burt Rivens, Kenneth Donnelly, Rupert Gardner, Gabriella Daniels, Kelley Chambers, and Jacob Taylor were who she had managed to get through so far. Twelve of fifteen crew members in the span of four hours and most conversations took a similar route, despite the differences per person.

Most of the crew acted the way she expected them to. They made little to no effort in acknowledging her and the more vocal ones, like Hawthorne and Gardner, found various ways to insult the ‘bird’ interrogating them. Throughout the process, increasingly racist nicknames were cast upon her every time the two opened their mouths. Of course, they became less creative as time dragged along. Bird, birdie, skull face, dinosaur, raptor, cuttlebone, and plated freak were a few of their fine examples. Cerberus was the type of organization to attract xenophobes, so she was used to their behavior and didn’t let it bother her, much to the dismay of the more openly racist prisoners.

Chambers had been a surprise though. When it was her turn for their interrogation, Shepard never thought someone from an organization comprised of bigoted xenophobes could be so _nice._ When she was forced into the seat by the young soldier, the first thing she said when he left was how pretty she thought Shepard’s eyes were. Soon after that, the conversation moved to how she found the very concept of mandibles fascinating. Shepard wondered how the woman came to work for Cerberus, considering how she held no animosity towards aliens, her turian self included.

When she finished with the crew, the soldier brought in the frigate’s executive officer. She wore omnicuffs and was in considerably worse shape than the other prisoners, sporting many purple bruises and a bloodied broken nose. Various claw marks riddled her face and uniform, giving Shepard the distinct impression that the woman was tortured. If force of this measure was brought down upon her by the soldiers here, she had to be the one in charge of disabling the networks. Shepard was glad the other crew members didn’t get this treatment. She pulled out a datapad, looking over the information Blackwatch had on the Cerberus operative in front of her.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Miranda Lawson. I have a few questions for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my winter break ended, I was left with much shorter periods of time to write out each individual chapter. With that said, I apologize for how long this took!
> 
> Consider this part one of a two part chapter. The original was getting too long, so I decided to post this section so you'd all have something to read. And for those of you asking about Joker and Chakwas, please keep in mind that Miranda is the thirteenth prisoner out of fifteen that Shepard has to interrogate. She has no idea who is on the Cerberus ship because no one gave her a crew roster. (Who knows, maybe this was done purposely. A biased interrogator that doesn't trust Cerberus makes life a little easier for Blackwatch.)


	8. Dog Tags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain helmsman anxiously waits for his turn with the interrogator.

_Location: Citadel, Zakera Ward - Council Space_

_Extranet call received from unknown location at 0334 GST on 10_21_2184_

The ‘Illusive Man’ as many called him, sat in a small chair at the center of a dark room while he fiddled with a datapad, looking over files on the Normandy’s previous crew. The man’s interest in him set him on edge as Joker waited impatiently on the other end of the call, swallowing nervously as he gripped Shepard’s dog tags. They were given to him as a feel good gift from Liara in an attempt to brighten his mood. It didn’t work, but he kept them anyway, choosing to hold onto them as a charm of sorts in case stressful situations such as this arose. Whether that charm was good or bad, he didn’t know. The average person didn’t receive personal calls from the head of Cerberus, so he was leaning towards bad. But for as much crap as he gave the bad luck charm, he had no intention of getting rid of it. The tags were a symbol of a personal promise he made; that, and they reminded him of Shepard.

The Cerberus head exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigarette, setting down the datapad before turning his full attention to Joker. The pilot let out a sigh of relief, happy to finally get a move on. He’d been on the other end of the call with this creep for an hour already and had no intention of sticking around any longer than he had to. “Mr. Moreau,” he began. “It was brought to my attention that you’re actively seeking employment.”

Joker raised a brow, wondering where exactly this was going. “I am, yeah. The market’s tight, the economy sucks, my friend’s death is my fault, you know how it is. After two years, you’d think the galaxy would be a little better about getting trade working again. You know, salaries, job benefits, goods, and all that other business stuff. But no, the giant metal squid takes priority. You wouldn’t believe the crazy hoops I had to jump through just to keep my 401k.”

The Illusive Man frowned. Okay, so he either didn’t like the jokes, or him. Joker couldn’t fathom which was worse. But one thing’s for sure: if he had to suffer through a serious conversation with the man, he would make it his life’s goal to get it over with as soon as possible. Hopefully sooner than that if Joker could help it. “Alright, alright, geez… I’ll get to the point then. What do you want? Wait, back up, before you answer that, how’d you even get my-”

“That’s not important,” the Illusive Man interrupted, quickly cutting him off. He looked almost relieved that the pilot stayed quiet long enough for him to continue the conversation. “Mr. Moreau, I called you to discuss your future. I’m interested to see how one would look for you given the events plaguing the last eighteen months.”

Joker nervously gripped the tags while he adjusted his baseball cap, evaluating the events that befell his life in that time. He blamed himself for Shepard’s death and showed multiple signs of _PTSD_ per Chakwas’ diagnosis, finding it difficult to live with the guilt. He woke up in a cold sweat every night, remembering Saren, Sovereign, the explosion, and one of his only friends lifelessly drifting toward her frozen grave. He was forced to discuss his trauma with many psychologists, none of which he liked, the Alliance had grounded him from flying when he defended Shepard’s actions, at which point he left, and then the crew was torn apart by bureaucracy, this being the Alliance’s kind, diplomatic way of saying that they didn’t like the aliens in the commander’s crew. At this point, he hated his life and was, as the Illusive Man had put it, actively seeking employment. Still, Joker didn’t know what potential this man saw in his future, but as far as he was concerned, any hope for the future _he_ wanted was lost when Shepard was spaced.

“Well, my friend is dead, the old crew isn’t reachable, and the Alliance took away the one thing that matters to me. I, uh… I just can’t see a future for myself that doesn’t involve me getting frisky with a hanar after having too much to drink at a sleazy bar in the wards.” Joker put his hands up, using air quotes to demonstrate the speech of the fictional hanar patron he talked about in an over exaggerated, sarcastic manner. “‘This one wishes for you to leave it’s tentacles alone, inebriated human.’”

The Illusive Man inhaled another whiff of his cigarette, puffing out a cloud of smoke shortly afterwards. “Mr. Moreau, despite what you might believe, I think we can help each other. Consider this a mutual agreement in which both sides experience the benefits.”

Joker broke down laughing, ultimately flabbergasted by what was one of the most unusual things he had heard in all his life. When he stopped, he looked at the Illusive Man again, coming face to face with a rather stern expression. “Wait, seriously?”

The implication hit him in the face like a raging krogan. This wasn’t a joke. He was actually serious. “An agreement?” He asked, looking for clarification on what was just said. When none was given, he continued. “Wait, back up, are you offering me a job?”

“Yes,” the Illusive Man said flatly.

He thought it over momentarily before speaking again. “Cerberus offering _me_ a job...gotta cross that off my bucket list. Honestly though, why should I trust you? You look like Martin Sheen’s twisted evil twin with ethics only a mother could love.”

“I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to help me find your old commander.”

————

_Location: [redacted]_

Joker sighed, letting the memory of his conversation with the Illusive Man fade away. When the Cerberus head proposed the idea of bringing Shepard back to life six months ago, he was skeptical. When the man explained that he had the resources, money, and personnel to make the idea a reality though, the helmsman became much more hopeful. He was given the position of pilot for the organization’s newest frigate, the SR2, shortly after his mission brief and Joker practically squealed with excitement.

Once onboard, the crew, made up of humans and employed by Cerberus, was surprisingly polite and accommodating. The frigate left the docking bay an hour after introductions, leaving the crew to pick up supplies via spaceports before they could begin the search. Joker was confident that with the help of Cerberus, they would find the commander and bring her back. When they eventually got around to that though, he didn’t want to see Shepard by himself. He was worried she might strangle him after the destruction of the SR1, so he arranged for Chakwas to come aboard early on in their voyage. They were good friends and talked a lot on the old Normandy, so when he explained what the Illusive Man’s plans were to the doctor, she made herself comfortable in the medbay, fully intending to stay and support Shepard, but also making it clear she was there to keep an eye on him too.

The project created to bring his friend back, dubbed Project Lazarus, was run by a stubborn woman known to the crew as Miranda Lawson. She was given the temporary position of commanding officer during their search for Shepard, but was the ship’s executive officer under normal circumstances. According to her, she tried acquiring Shepard’s body for the project eighteen months earlier, but was beaten to the punch by a turian platoon who forcefully took the corpse off her hands.

Supplied with that information, the crew started seeking out turian space stations and with the help of EDI, the SR2’s resident artificial intelligence, they carefully extracted any information on the dead commander’s whereabouts from their databases. Unfortunately for them, the turians were careful and little information was found. The crew fell into a routine, striking the computer systems and data storages of every turian operated space station they came across with little to no new information. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months with the crew doing the same things every day, leaving them less optimistic about finding a body the turians were likely experimenting on.

Little did they know that with each hack they did, EDI left a unique signature. One that apparently allowed for a small backdoor into her main systems to transmit their location. So while the crew was in their sleep cycle, the turians exploited this, deploying an electromagnetic pulse on the ship, effectively disabling it as they forcefully boarded. The entirety of the SR2 was caught completely off guard and as a result, the turians captured them with little effort.

They were taken to a space station where they were thrown into a communal cell and subjected to individual interrogations. The turians recognized Miranda early on, so they separated her from the crew, leaving the rest of them lying in wait for their turn. One by one, each member was escorted out of the cell by a guard. The turian questioning them took their time with each crew member, given it took some of them up to half an hour to return. Joker anxiously waited for his turn with the interrogator, nervously gripping Shepard's tags around his neck. He had been on edge ever since his capture.

“Nervous?” Asked a voice to his right. While he was fiddling with the charm, he hadn’t noticed Chambers take a seat on the bench next to him. He gathered his composure, slowly nodding and adjusting his hat.

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “I joined up to find my friend, not to get arrested by the dextro five-o.”

She lowered her head in understanding. “We’ll find the commander soon Joker. And don’t worry, she’s actually very nice.”

Joker turned his head to look at Chambers, conveying an expression of clear confusion. “Who’s very nice?”

“The interrogator,” she responded. “She’s a turian commander I think. When I went in for my turn, she wasn't harsh in the slightest.”

He turned his head to look at the door where the guard was posted. Chakwas was chatting him up. He swore he heard the soldier growling at her. Looking back at Chambers, he swallowed nervously. “Anyone seems nicer when you’re in the hospitality of ‘turian soldier extraordinaire’ over there. The guy’s literally _growling_ at our doctor, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” he said, pointing to the spectacle in front of him.

“Just treat her with kindness and she’ll do the same,” she said, trying to reassure him.

Before he could respond, the guard arguing with Chakwas at the door approached him, grabbing the pilot roughly by the arm. “Ow! Watch the arm!”

“Move it human. You’re up next.”

————

_Room Designation: Interrogation Box_

Shepard knocked on the glass thrice. She figured Miranda would be uncooperative, but didn’t think for a second the operative would try to kill her. The soldiers that captured her had no idea she was a biotic, and from what she assumed, the woman hid it well during her initial torture session. When Shepard started asking her usual questions, the executive officer broke out of the cuffs and charged her. Having experience with countering close quarters biotic combat, she quickly lifted the table in front of her, using the large slab as a block to avoid the operative’s onslaught. The table was torn in half and while the woman stumbled back to recharge, Shepard punched her in the face, picked her up by the legs and threw her, slamming the Cerberus officer into the two way mirror.

Before the exhausted operative could remove herself from the cracked mirror in an attempt to do more damage, two turian soldiers came into the room, restraining the woman with biotic clamps and hauling her out of the interrogation box. Shepard brushed the dust off herself and let out a heavy sigh, moving what remained of the table to the side and rearranging the chairs so she could continue her interrogation with the last two prisoners.

A few minutes later, she heard the guard open the door and turned around to face him. His hand was tightly gripping the shoulder of his newest prisoner. She couldn’t make out who the man was due to the position of his lowered head. The hat he wore covered just enough to obstruct his face.

“Spirits,” the soldier uttered, looking over the ruined state of the room. “What happened here ma’am?”

Shepard slowly sat up in her chair, placing her hands on her lap as she looked at the soldier. “My previous talk didn’t go so well. The executive officer the boarding team captured wasn’t vetted for biotics,” she said, sighing. “I apologize for the current state of your interrogation room, soldier. I didn’t expect the operative to be as aggressive as she was and I severely underestimated her strength, given the injuries inflicted before her arrival.”

The guard chuckled, flaring his mandibles into a smile. “No apology needed commander. Situations like this are exactly why the interrogation box is sparsely furnished.”

Shepard gestured a three fingered hand to the empty seat in front of her. “If you’d just set him down there, I’d appreciate it.”

He nodded, guiding the prisoner into the chair facing her before taking his leave again. When the door closed behind him, Shepard focused her attention on the man in front of her. He was shorter than some of the other prisoners she interrogated and was hunched forward slightly.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed the man seemed nervous, given he was constantly adjusting his hat, avoiding eye contact, and gripping a pair of charred dog tags around his neck. Shepard cleared her throat, leaning closer to the man in an attempt to appear non threatening. “Hello, I’m commander Novilea Dexilus. Per standard procedure, I need to ask you a few questions,” she said, trying to phrase her words as gently as possible.

No response.

“I’ve had run ins with Cerberus in the past, but nothing quite like your crew,” she continued. “Everyone I interviewed, apart from your executive officer, doesn’t seem to fully ally themselves with the extremist group. So why join them?”

The man gripped the tags around his neck a little tighter. “They promised to bring my friend Shepard back,” he said, looking up to face her. After adjusting his hat again, he let go of the tags and made eye contact with her. Shepard gasped, staring wide eyed at the man who she knew as her old helmsman. She couldn't believe it; Joker joined Cerberus to find her. And the dog tags on his neck? She would’ve recognized that little turian claw anywhere. Garrus gave it to her. Joker was wearing her old dog tags.

“But Miranda told us you guys took her before they could bring her back. That’s why we hacked your systems. We… No, _I_ wanted to know where you took her. She doesn’t deserve to be some weapons test dummy. My friend deserves so much more than that! And when she comes back someday, maybe then I’ll get to say I’m sorry. After all, her death was my fault…”

Shepard was shocked. Her mouth reacted faster than her brain; she couldn’t control the landslide of words that rushed from her mandibles even if she wanted to. “No,” she voiced sternly. “My death wasn’t your fault. I made the decision to launch the pod so you’d get to safety. I never blamed you for trying to save the Normandy.”

She got up from her seat, kneeling down in front of him and cupping his face with her massive turian hands. “The time I spent on the Normandy - connecting with the crew, gaining my Spectre status, chasing Saren… Those were some of the best years of my life. I understand wanting to save it, but I had to choose between the ship and my crew. I swear on my life that I'll choose my crew over the ship every damn time. And that’s exactly what I did. I forgive you Joker, but I can’t _believe_ you blamed yourself for my decision.”

Saying Joker was shocked would be an understatement. He looked conflicted; she figured he might. Having a turian you just met yell at you about the death of your friend would leave anyone in a complicated place emotion wise. His expression changed several times, moving so fast that his brain didn’t know how to comprehend the scenario in front of him. After a minute, he seemed to sort out his feelings, looking at her with a confused expression. “What’s with the carapace, commander?”

Shepard burst out laughing, more out of relief than anything, soon finding herself hugging the fragile man. “That’s a bit of a story,” she said, releasing him from her massive arms. “The turian platoon, the one that took me from Miranda, they were worried Cerberus might try and implant a control chip in my head if she got to me first. They brought me back to a lab and tried to reconstruct me, like Cerberus said they would when you joined them, but there wasn’t enough organic matter left to rebuild my body. Since they didn’t want to risk me being found, they brought me back as a turian instead.”

Joker processed this, then turned to look at her with a huge shit eating grin on his face. “So you inherited the signature turian stick up your ass, huh?” He said, elbowing her side in a playful manner.

Shepard wasn’t expecting that, but chuckled nonetheless. The pilot’s terrible humor was a breath of fresh air. “Not necessarily. It may have been there when I woke up, but I managed to work it out along the way. I’m now trying to beat people to death with it. I might try it on you, since your head’s in the gutter.”

“Sounds like you,” he said, smiling at her. She had to admit, it was nice seeing him again, cracking jokes and messing around. But he seemed distant. The man wasn’t usually one to stare off into space. And when he started gripping her dog tags again, she knew something was bothering him.

“Are you alright Joker?” She asked, her voice filled with concern. Her subharmonics hummed gently with anxiety as her mandibles slowly fluttered.

“What are you going to do with the crew?” He asked, looking up to meet her gaze.

Shepard frowned, giving the matter some thought. Interviewing Joker’s fellow crew members revealed that the majority of them were good people. Chambers was an excellent example of this. They didn’t deserve to spend their days in a place like this, and from what she saw in his expression, Joker felt the same way.

“Miranda was taken to solitary confinement, so she won’t be going anywhere for a long time. They’ll probably continue interrogating her, but the rest of the crew will be handed over to the alliance for a fair trial. Cerberus defectors are a valuable asset, so if they volunteered to find me like you did, the group will likely face mandatory reinstatement and community service.”

Joker let out an audible sigh of relief, turning to look at her with a tired smile. “Thanks Dex.”

She frowned, tilting her head in confusion. “Dex?”

“Your new nickname. Might as well start, _Miss Dexilus._ Your new name’s a charmer, so exquisitely turian. It’s even got the ‘us’ at the end!”

Shepard sighed, chuckling slightly at the ridiculous way he said her name. “Alright, you’ve made your point. Thanks Joker.”

He shrugged, leaning back in the turian chair he was sitting on. “It’s not a big deal. But I do want a favor in return for my services.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I need to make a call. Someone’s gotta tell the boss I quit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the two part chapter is here! I'll admit, this took way longer than I wanted it to. Writing from Joker's perspective is exceedingly difficult, but I finally managed to get it posted. It's unlikely that I'll write in his perspective again, but it was an interesting experience to say the least. Now, without further ado, please enjoy!


	9. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The helmsman and the good doctor make an excellent pair.

_Location: [redacted]_

Sharing a cell with thirteen people was not a pleasant experience. There wasn’t enough seating, the ventilation was poor, the bathroom only accommodated one person, and nothing in the cell was designed for humans. Watching one of the younger crew members attempting to use a turian toilet had been hilarious for about five minutes before the Cerberus crew realized that they all shared the provided amenities. Adding to that, the cell was kept at a temperature several degrees warmer than what the crew was used to, further reminding them that their prison wasn’t designed with them in mind. To say they were irritable was an understatement — they were miserable.

A few of the older crew members approached the soldier guarding their cell, asking him to turn down the temperature. He glanced their way with an amused expression on his face plates, bluntly stating that it wasn’t his fault humans weren’t built for turian suitable temperatures.

Their inclosed space and the issues that came with it made life harder during their stay, but not as unbearable as some of the others made it out to be. Doctor Chakwas learned to deal with the inconveniences presented to her after some time getting accustomed to her surroundings, finding a comfortable medium in a thin shirt and a profound sense of patience when using the facilities. Unfortunately, her ability to tolerate captivity in a cell did nothing to tune out the constant complaining of her crew mates.

The interrogations brought on by the turians fueled their paranoia. It wasn’t her turn to go yet, but she hoped the opportunity to speak with her captors came soon; waiting around in the hot, cramped cell made her colleagues anxious. She was supposed to be the last person the turians spoke to before deciding on the fate of their group, but the guard that took Joker hadn’t returned him yet, leaving them to mingle amongst themselves. He’d been gone too long and the crew was quickly picking up on this.

The SR2’s mess sergeant, Rupert Gardner, walked up to the guard, soaked in sweat like the rest of the crew, inquiring about the location of the pilot. “Hey turian,” he started, getting the guard’s attention. The expression on his face plates was one of displeasure and his body language stiffened. The guard looked annoyed to have been bothered.

“What do you want, human?” He replied irritably.

Gardner leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the turian, letting out a sigh as he crossed his arms. “You’ve had our pilot for hours now. Are you gonna give him back anytime soon?"

The guard turned around to face the mess sergeant, looking down to meet his eyes. “That’s up to the commander. What she says, goes. I was informed that she wanted more time to talk with the pilot, so they may take longer than usual.”

Gardner frowned. “It’s been four hours,” he said, clearly unamused.

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “And you will wait four _more_ hours if the commander deems it necessary,” the turian shot back, his mandibles pulling closer to his face.

Before Gardner could voice his complaints, the guard’s omnitool rang. The turian walked away to answer his call, leaving the annoyed mess sergeant behind. Chakwas listened as best as she could, but couldn’t make out the conversation from where she was. The call lasted a few minutes, the guard making a few audible grunting sounds before he hung up. He looked up from his wrist, putting his arm against his side while his eyes scanned their enclosure, presumably looking for someone in particular. His gaze settled on her. Gripping his Phaeston, he walked towards the holding cell, unlocking the door before strolling inside. He held the assault rifle tightly in his hands, blocking off the exit where he stood.

“My orders came back,” he said, scanning the room. “I am to deliver the last human prisoner to the commander for interrogation.” The guard directed his attention to the doctor, his mandibles parting slightly into a tired grin. “Karin Chakwas, please come with me.”

————

_Room Designation: Interrogation Box_

Conversation flowed smoothly for Shepard after revealing to Joker that she was Novilea Dexilus. Of course, she found the pilot staring at her whenever her back was turned, but she could understand his reaction. Over the last several hours of being conscious, she had taken numerous opportunities to look herself over as well. He discussed his time aboard the Cerberus ship while she underwent the transformation process project tarin put her through. He talked about the new Normandy in detail, ranging from its specifications, the onboard artificial intelligence, and the crew that manned it, all of which she already told him she talked to. He was opening up the more they spoke, making Shepard part her mandibles into a smile. He was certainly eager to share.

Once Joker started talking, it was difficult getting him to stop. The man had two years of guilt from her death built up and now, he was decompressing, letting it all out in her presence. She could tell he had been under a lot of stress during his time partnered with the Cerberus crew. The tension manifested itself as a scent that lingered in the air, making Shepard uncomfortable. Having the ability to smell the emotions of her crew was disconcerting to say the least. She did her best to ignore it, continuing to listen in on his experiences while offering support whenever he needed it.

He was in the middle of telling her about Miranda’s implant research when they heard a knock on the mirror. Shepard turned towards the door to see it open, revealing the young turian guard with another human prisoner. He was being more polite to her than he had been to the others, guiding her towards the table they were sitting at before heading to the exit of the interrogation box.

“She’s the last one commander,” he said, his subvocals humming in a respectful manner when referring to the prisoner. “She didn’t complain like the others.”

Once the guard took his leave, Shepard took a good look at the person sitting in front of her. The human was older, female, and had greying hair. Joker’s face lit up immediately upon seeing their face and as soon as she saw who it was, Shepard did the same.

She got up from her chair in front of Joker, offering it to doctor Chakwas, who gladly took a seat. The good doctor took a moment to observe her, scrunching her face slightly in confusion at the sudden chivalry directed towards her from the turian commander. Shepard stood in between her pilot and the doctor, her subvocals letting off a happy trill at the reunion.

Joker picked up on the noise emanating from her and started laughing, shaking his head. “Geez Dex, you really are just a big, spikey, alien dino bird, aren’t you?”

Shepard chuckled slightly at the pilot’s joke, quickly silencing her sub harmonics. She didn’t like the harsh reminder that she was a completely different species now, putting forth great effort to hide just how much Joker’s comment bothered her. Her train of thought stopped abruptly when the third person in the room gently cleared her throat, tapping the pilot on the shoulder.

“Jeff,” she said, sighing. “You’ve only been gone a few hours and you’re already giving their commander nicknames? You know how strict turians are about regulations and they take military discipline very seriously. Did you not learn _anything_ after your incident with General Invectus?”

Joker straightened in his chair, gripping Shepard’s tags in his hand again before turning to face Chakwas. “You don’t understand doc!" He yelled. Afterwards, he quickly composed himself. "Do you remember what Cerberus said they were going to do to bring Shepard back?”

The doctor thought it over for a minute. “Miranda was talking about enhanced implant surgery and detailed a few methods for molecular reconstruction, but I don’t know how the process works. Even then, we still need Shepard’s body to conduct the procedures on.” Chakwas turned to look at Shepard, scanning for a reaction. The turian commander stood hovering over them, donned head to toe in obsidian black medium armor. Chakwas turned back to the pilot again, continuing on in a more hushed tone. “The hierarchy took her away before we could recover her, you already know that Jeff.”

“But here’s the thing doc,” Joker said, sounding excited. “They already did the reviving for us! The hierarchy brought her back!” He turned to look at Shepard again, refusing to hold back his massive grin. “Dex here knows that better than anyone because she _is_ Shepard.”

Chakwas froze, quickly turning to look at Shepard again, her eyes wide with shock. Joker sighed, chuckling slightly. “I’m not nearly stupid enough to nickname the dexto five-o’s new poster child without actually knowing her, doc. And before you ask, I’m sure it’s her.”

The doctor slowly got up from her chair, walking over to Shepard, looking up at her to meet her avian eyes. "Is it true?" She asked quietly.

Shepard slowly nodded. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Karin."

A small smile crept onto the older woman’s face before she carefully approached the turian, gently wrapping her arms around her armored chest. Shepard returned the hug, gently resting her chin on top of the doctor’s head, her mandibles flaring into a smile of her own.

Joker chose this moment to stand up from his chair and walk over to the two of them, holding out the charred dog tags for his old commander to collect. “Here,” he said, handing the tags over to Shepard. “Might as well give these back to their owner. It's not like I need them anymore.” He then pointed at Chakwas, adjusting his hat slightly before he spoke again. “You know she’s gonna run tests on you, right?”

Shepard sighed. “I kinda figured.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mention of General Invectus is a nod to the Mass Effect comic: He Who Laughs Best.  
> \-----
> 
> Hello readers! Chapter nine is finally up and it's thanks to all of you that I have the motivation to keep going. This took much longer than I originally anticipated and while many of you probably thought this story was dead, I can assure you that I was still hard at work behind the scenes to keep it up to date. I've added more tags, edited grammar, fixed some of my paragraphs, and have been generally tinkering around, rewording a few sections that I was unsure about. I'm always lurking in the comments section, so please feel free to ask questions, critique my writing, or just comment something fun!
> 
> Also, expect some general edits and a format fix for chapter one in the next few days!


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